The old soldier, ears thoroughly bitten, shy a few teeth, still keeps vigil over his domain.
Given the less than appealing name Stinky due to his feisty nature when we got him. What would you expect. The critter was feral. I’ve never come up with a substitute name and refuse to use that one. I haven’t been swatted in over two years and he usually comes over to rub against my leg and let me scratch behind his ears. I make use of Old Man, Dude, Buddy. The nameless wrangler that helped send the rats packing, patrols the complex, and has mellowed considerably. Well, the squirrels would argue with that last part. I could call him Sheriff. Or Sharif, after Omar.
Fountain Pen and Pitt Artist Pens on a Rhodia unlined notebook.
